One Last Rainy Day: The Legacy of a Prince(106)

But in doing so, I was rewarded with a piece of paradise, a minute more with my ignorant bliss.

And I took it.

That’s how I got here.

Even if my gun now resides in enemy hands.

“What brings you here, Matteo? It’s a little late for company.”

I spike my tone enough that if Tobias is anywhere in the near vicinity, he’ll come. But I feel the intuition I’ve overlooked one time too many kicking in as my entire being erupts in awareness.

It’s too late.

Intent on keeping Matteo a safe distance from her, I engage in pointless back and forth while maintaining the focus of the monster in front of me. The threat in his eyes and posture looming mere feet away from the one thing I refuse to be robbed of.

I’ve lost enough to life’s hand. It doesn’t get to have her.

Feeling it when Cecelia emerges from her bedroom, I calmly tell her to step back. I don’t want her seeing the depravity radiating from this motherfucker. Though alike in some ways, this sick fuck considers spilling blood a pleasure.

We’re entirely different in that respect.

At least I have that. Even if I can identify with him in a few ways, I won’t lose sleep over spilling his blood.

For her, I’ll become the goddamn boogeyman. Matteo reads as much in my eyes, of that I’m sure, even as he threatens her in an attempt to rattle me.

Before I can take another step, Tobias sounds up behind me.

“What’s good, brother?”

“Got this handled,” I relay before asking Matteo about his brother’s whereabouts—my confidence in Tobias. Refusing to think about the half-dozen ways this has already gone wrong, I’m reassured when I hear Tobias address Cecelia to come to him. Just as relief briefly filters in, Andre’s voice sounds. The three of them go back and forth in meaningless exchange as Tobias tries to reason with me to wait. But I voice my objection because of what I know and see—no longer ignoring my instincts. It’s so fucking clear in Matteo’s eyes that he’s salivating for this.

That makes two of us, motherfucker.

Knowing I can take this piece of shit out through sheer will alone—whether he has the advantage or not—I assure Tobias I can. It’s the threat behind the front door that I’m wary of. It’s going to take time, even at top speed, for our birds to get here.

When Tobias snaps at Andre to back off, I take another step down, separating the monster from her. With each one, I feel the chains that have bound me start to strain and break, one by one. Cecelia is at the forefront of my mind. The noise surrounds me, the collective screams of the other innocents I’ve sworn to avenge propelling me forward. Getting lost in the void of the eyes staring back at me, adrenaline starts to take over.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

This monster is going to pay for them all, even as my brother pleas with me, and I assure him there’s no deal to be made. This was inevitable, and another unmistakable inkling tells me that I knew it well before now.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

It’s Cecelia’s call that stops me from embracing the dark snaking its way into me. Focusing on her, I allow myself the chance to tell her that briefly, she gave me a glimpse of a happiness I hadn’t thought I was capable of.

“Cecelia,” I address firmly, my heart lurching into the rhythm she created.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Tobias attempts to cut in, calling my name, but I refuse him.

“I’m talking to Cecelia.”

“Yes?” she replies, voice shaking with fear.

“After this, want to watch a movie?”

Ignoring any outside noise beyond our exchange, I tell her of the memory that kept me going in France.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Of a time I felt complete and whole.

“You can make that cheddar popcorn I love, and we can crowd under that blanket that smells like . . . what’s that smell?”

“Lavender,” she releases in a shaky rush.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Of a life we might have had . . . if I didn’t have so many fucking monsters to slay.

“Yeah, and I’ll watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

“We love rainy days, don’t we, baby?”

“We do,” she croaks, voice breaking.

Tilting my head at Matteo in challenge, I make my declaration clear to Tobias to ready himself. “We don’t fucking negotiate with terrorists.”

Taking another step toward Matteo, Cecelia’s voice reaches me in elevated panic. “Dominic.”

“What is it, baby?”

“S’il te pla?t, ne fais rien de stupide. Je t’aime.” Please don’t do anything stupid. I love you.

“Je sais.” I know.

Her declaration fuels me as I stand between her and the monster I swore to protect her from while her love sets me free. For a brief time, she was my solace—my reprieve. The only dream of a future I allowed myself to have, but she can’t be. Not anymore.

Too many monsters.

“Dominic,” Tobias orders gruffly. “Stand down, right fucking now. We’re still talking.” I feel the desperation in his order, in him, as he rattles behind me to stop and think it through. But I have, for far too long, and I’m finally ten steps ahead.